


The Child Thieves of Hearts

by CaseyMarie



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, the phantom theives... but they're all six years old and sojiro's babysitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 23:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13087401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyMarie/pseuds/CaseyMarie
Summary: Sojiro is not prepared to even think about having a group of children in his cafe, let alone actually have them there. Sae gives him no choice in the matter.





	The Child Thieves of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Blame [this real nice art!](http://pikaiscool.tumblr.com/post/163869724500/so-this-happened-the-phantom-babies-theyll) It's so cute and after looking at it earlier today I got hit with inspiration and wrote this all in one go! The word count really got out of hand... I can't believe this is my first Persona fic though, I really wanna write more for these games. Sorry if this is super OOC, I wasn't sure how to write them as six year olds.

Sojiro sighs, pouring chocolate milk into the cheapest teacup he owns, the label of the bottle carefully angled away from the children. Haru sits patiently on the seat, swinging her legs back and forth dangerously close to Yusuke’s head, probably not even realising that there’s a boy sitting underneath her table. Sojiro has to walk around Ann and Ryuji once he’s gone around the counter because there is apparently no better place to torment his cat than in the middle of the floor. Akira sits with his back against the counter, watching silently as he usually does.

“Thank you, Soji!” Haru chirps, clapping as he places the cup in front of her. “What tea is it?”

Sojiro glances around the shop for something to name. The television in the corner features two foreigners who’d been caught in a local accident and Sojiro tries to say what he hopes is the correct English translation of chocolate milk.

Her eyes widen larger than the rim of her cup. “So fancy! Thank you, thank you!”

At least that’s one satisfied customer. He doesn’t know what Sae was thinking, dumping all these kids on him, but he doesn’t appreciate it. He already has Akira and Futaba to look after. Futaba's thankfully quiet in the corner on the game console that, after consideration, he probably shouldn’t be letting her on for so long. On top of looking after all these kids, he’s had to close early to not bother any customers that might come in.

Sojiro shakes his head, turning back towards the counter in hopes he could at least do some dishes while the kids ruin his business. He stops immediately, honing in on the child who _really_ should not be that high up.

“How did you get up there?” he asks Akira, now sitting on one of the barstools.

Akira looks at him, his eyes completely serious behind the glasses a customer had probably left behind and he’d decided to keep for himself as he says, “I can’t get down.”

“You can’t get down,” Sojiro repeats. Couldn’t he just do whatever he’d done to get up there in the first place but in reverse?

Ann looks up, in the middle of tying of bow around the neck of a very reluctant Morgana. “Huh? How did Akira get up so high?”

Ryuji looks as well, his eyes sparkling. “He’s a superhero,” he breathes, because of course that’s the conclusion someone would reach about that.

Morgana takes advantage of the distraction and scampers under Akira’s chair. Ann gasps, exclaiming a very indignant, “ _Mona!_ ” and crawls over to grab him. Akira panics.

“No!” he shouts, splaying out his hands to punctuate his unusual volume. “It’s serious. If you bump the stool I’ll fall and _die_.”

Ann looks horrified. “Get down, get down!”

Akira crosses his arms with all the firmness a six year old can muster and says nothing. Ryuji is less worried. “No fair. You’re hogging Mona.”

“Am not,” Akira says, sounding incredibly offended. After a short pause he adds, “and he’s my cat.”

“That doesn’t mean you can have him!” Ryuji protests.

“My cat!” Ann declares, apparently no longer concerned for Akira’s safety as she darts forward and grabs for Morgana. In a very wise move, Morgana runs from her grubby child hands and flees upstairs.

Neither child cares about the havoc they leave behind as they charge after Morgana. Ann had bumped the stool just enough to rock it slightly and Akira lets out a scream that Sojiro’s ears pay for dearly, clutching onto the counter like his life depends on it. It doesn’t. The stool has barely moved.

Sojiro now has two children who shouldn’t be in his attic, a very distressed child who’s now trying to pretend he wasn’t scared, three children who were too absorbed in their own activities to know why Akira had suddenly screamed, and _no idea where that damned Sae is_.

“Is Akira okay?” Haru asks, her voice small and scared.

Sojiro’s so tired of this. “He’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Akira parrots stubbornly.

Yusuke peeks out from under his table, still holding a crayon in his hand. “What’s wrong?”

Haru gasps, sliding off her seat to look under the table. “You! Who are you?”

She’s just noticed him. Sojiro shakes his head, his concentration turning back to Akira. “Do you need help getting down?”

“...No,” Akira said slowly, staring at the floor his feet hover over far above. “I can get down by myself.”

No he can’t. Sojiro walks back into the kitchen, searching for the footstool he’s sure he still has somewhere around here. It’s barely been a few seconds when he hears yelling. If he tries hard enough he can probably ignore them, it shouldn’t be too difficult. That thought doesn’t even last as long as it took for the peace to be broken and he glances around one last time before looking back out towards Haru and Yusuke’s table.

“My crayons!” Yusuke is now on top of the table rather than under it, holding too many crayons for his hands to handle and a few sheets of paper. Haru is pouting, standing on her chair with her teacup cradled in her hands.

“But I wanna draw something,” she complains.

“No, I’m art so I get to draw,” Yusuke says. An artist, Sojiro corrects wearily in his thoughts.

“You have heaps of crayons,” Haru continues.

“I _need_ them,” he insists.

“You’re being mean!” Haru exclaimed, stomping her foot softly enough that Sojiro didn’t actually hear any noise, just saw the action of her leg moving.

“You’re being loud.” Futaba climbs over the seats rather than walking around them like a normal person, a devilish grin on her face. “Kids who are too loud get cursed.”

Sojiro shouldn’t have let her play that game for so long.

“Cursed!?” Rather than looking scared by this, both of them look interested at the idea of a curse. Haru even looks excited. “What kind of curse!?”

Futaba visibly did not expect this answer. “A quiet curse?” she suggests.

Sojiro returns to the kitchen. They can deal with that on their own. Sojiro still has Rapunzel to deal with, hopefully he wasn’t too proud for a footstool. The moment he turns around he sees it sitting there, hidden behind the door silently spiting him. He grabs it, it’s a little shorter than he thought but at least it was something, and returns to the children. No one’s fighting at least, though the suspiciously quiet attic is concerning, and he sets down the stool in front of Akira.

Akira glares at it. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Sojiro replies.

Akira stares at him, his face scrunched up in a way that’s probably intended to be intimidating but really fails to be anything other than a little cute - he admits this in the most begrudging way possible. Slowly Akira inches his way off the stool, he feet hovering just above it, and in a split second decision Sojiro almost doesn’t catch, decides to drop down the rest of the way.

The stool slips and with it, Akira. He’s surprising silent as the world falls out from under him, especially considering his reaction to the Morgana incident, and Sojiro moves in a moment of panic to catch him. Sojiro grunts, regret fuelling the pain in his knee, and Akira isn’t even grateful. “I was fine,” he insists, hopping out of Sojiro’s grip and disappears up into the attic. Now Sojiro really needs to check on what they're doing up there.

Futaba is the one who freaks out at this, someone not even involved in the fall. “Is Sojiro dying?!”

“Soji?!” Haru catches onto the panic and calls his name.

Yusuke doesn’t even look bothered by Sojiro on the ground, he just frowns at Futaba. “Keep talking,” he instructs. It doesn’t even take a moment of concerned hesitation. She immediately starts talking again, explaining the appearance of some monster in her game while Yusuke draws, nodding at her every word.

Ungrateful kids.

The door opens, a ring of the bell alerting Sojiro of this. He reluctantly looks up, knowing there’s only one person who’d come in when the shop’s closed and fearing the worst considering she’s the cause of his child infestation.

Sae walks into Le Blanc, armed with two new children and stops in confusion at his current position. “Why are you on the floor?” she says in place of greeting.

“You’ve brought more children,” he comments, standing up with a relatively embarrassed brush of his clothes. A boy in a cape is clinging to her leg, glancing around the cafe nervously. The other child shows none of those reservations, walking over to Haru’s table and looking over their things.

“These are mine,” Sae says. Sojiro raises an eyebrow at that and realisation strikes her. “I mean, not _mine_. I’m looking after them. Say hello.”

Neither of them say hello. The boy only seems to clutch onto Sae’s leg tighter and the girl finally looks up from Haru’s drink, frowning at her.

“This is chocolate milk,” she says.

Haru stares at the girl, her eyes widening and her lip trembling and- _oh no_. Haru tears up immediately, her eyes on Sojiro. “I-It’s not tea?”

Trust a kid to get so upset over this. Sojiro looks to Sae for help, eloquently putting his panic into words as, “um.”

“Makoto,” Sae scolds, providing a name for the brown-haired homewrecker. Sae tries to step towards Haru, weighed down by the child attached to her, and holds her arms out for a hug. Haru gratefully accepts, her eyes still full of tears. “It’s okay sweetie. It’s milk tea, but chocolate. That’s what Makoto was trying to say.”

“You promise?” Haru asks, fixing her irresistible puppy eyes on Sae. Those were the same eyes from when she was convincing Sojiro to get her a cup a tea. You can’t say no.

“I promise,” says Sae so earnestly it's easy to forget it's a total lie.

Haru seems satisfied by that. Makoto stands by the side, fidgeting next to them. “Sorry for making you cry.”

“It’s okay!” Haru steps away from Sae to smile warmly towards Makoto. Makoto visibly relaxes and smiles back.

Sae looks around the shop, frowning slightly. “You’re missing some.”

Sojiro sighs, jerking a thumb in the direction of the stairs. “They’ve got the cat trapped up there. Frankly, I’m a little scared to go check it out.”

She smiles at that, leaning down to address her attachment. “Akechi, honey. Will you be okay down here?”

His face screams no. “Um, yes, Sae.”

“Good boy,” she says, ruffling his hair and leaving him there as she goes up the stairs herself.

Akechi looks lost, glancing around with a very silent panic all over his face. Futaba is still talking about the monsters of her game at their table and Akechi takes one looks at the three people gathered around her before scampering past Sojiro and hiding in the corner. Sojiro can leave him be. This is a thing that he can do and it will cause him no trouble. He stares after Akechi for a few seconds, thinking those thoughts over multiple times before following him. He’s sitting where Futaba previously sat, staring at the television. All that’s showing is the news, one of the least interesting things for a child to watch.

“What’s with the cape?” Sojiro asks, attracting Akechi’s attention.

He looks around the cafe as if nervous someone would overhear and leans closer, scooting to the edge of the seat. “I’m a superhero,” he confides.

Sojiro fails to keep his voice above deadpan. “I see.”

“So it would really help if,” Akechi glances back towards the television, currently reporting the week’s weather, and straightens up, “you put on some… education shows.”

That was probably the smartest word Sojiro has heard from these kids all day and he has no idea what it means. “Education shows.”

Akechi nods earnestly.

“For being a superhero?” Sojiro asks.

“Uh huh,” he confirms.

Sojiro stares at the weather report. What the hell was an educational show for superheroes? He stares a little longer before it hits him. “Cartoons?” he asks.

“No,” Akechi insists. “They’re education shows.”

This might be the most roundabout way someone’s asked him to watch cartoons. Sojiro moves to the counter, grabbing the remote to flick through the channels without complaint. He’s had people ask for cartoons before, the kid didn’t need to be embarrassed about it. Especially when every other child his age still watches them.

He turns back to Akechi after finding something animated. “This okay?”

Akechi’s not even looking as he nods, already transfixed on the show. It’s not even about superheroes as far as Sojiro can see but Akechi doesn’t seem to care about that. Sojiro has five children under control, something on its own that really deserves a medal of some sort, and three missing in action. He glances up towards the stairs and thinks to himself, Sae’s up there, it can’t be that bad. Those are the only thoughts that spur him into action after her.

It is that bad.

Sojiro should’ve cleaned out this place long ago before it led to this.

Ryuji, Ann, and Akira hide behind a fort of junk, all wearing cardboard boxes as helmets. Akira holds Morgana protectively in the back. Ann stands on a shelf - _has she not learned from Akira’s mistakes?_ Ryuji holds a very unthreatening stick of cardboard in Sae’s direction and is currently declaring war on adults.

“Adult spotted!” Ann reports, interrupting Ryuji and points at Sojiro.

Ryuji pauses, looking towards the stairs until he sees Sojiro. “Take this!” he yells, and throws the cardboard sword in his direction. The throw is as unimpressive as the weapon and barely makes it past Sae. Ryuji glances back at Akira. “Sword!”

Akira nods, still holding Morgana as he leans down and produces another cardboard stick. How many do they have back there..?

Sojiro stands by Sae, not feeling overly threatened by cardboard sticks. “Was it like this when you got up here?”

“Yeah…” she says, not looking sure how to respond to the situation. It’s a relatable feeling.

“Why are you declaring war on us?” Sojiro asks them.

That seems to stump them. Their plan apparently didn’t include motives. It’s a pretty impressive fort considering they’re six years old and really shouldn’t have been able to move all that by themselves. Ann finally finds a rather underwhelming answer.

“Because adults suck!”

“Yeah!” Ryuji agrees.

“Do they still suck when they can make food for you downstairs?” Sojiro asks.

Akira breaks immediately. He drops Morgana, who hisses and runs to the corner, and climbs over the fort wall. Ann and Ryuji only look outraged by this betrayal for a moment before they get over it.

“Please get us food,” Ann asks politely, getting down of the shelf far easier than Akira had gotten off the bar stool.

“I want all the food,” Ryuji says less politely. Both of them race downstairs, only beat by Akira.

Sae smiles hesitantly. “I don’t have to pay for this, do I?”

Sojiro stares at her, his expression totally serious. “They’re your kids.”

She laughs, the sound humourless. “I see.”

There’s a beat of silence, the sound of excited children in the background. “You don’t have to do that. Give me half the money and I’ll deal with the rest.”

She looks more relieved but a little apologetic. “I’m able to pay for it all if you want.”

“No it’s fine, just,” he sighs, glancing around the attic, “help me deal with this once you take them back to their parents.”


End file.
